


Brotherhood Drabbles

by firefly_skies



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Edmund only appears briefly in Chapter 3, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Nightmares, Period-Typical Sexism, Sexism- Chapter 3, but he may appear in later chapters, except they are children instead of weird feral knights, fears, so these are basically drabbles about the Brotherhood, they are weird feral children, who are also knights in training
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22828654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefly_skies/pseuds/firefly_skies
Summary: A collection of drabbles focusing on the members of the Brotherhood... as kids!
Relationships: Adira & Hector, Adira & Hector & Quirin (Disney: Tangled), Adira & Quirin, Hector & Quirin (Disney: Tangled)
Comments: 140
Kudos: 70





	1. Maybe

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Memories of the Brotherhood](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22788415) by [A_Stressed_Cupcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Stressed_Cupcake/pseuds/A_Stressed_Cupcake). 



> Hello! If you are reading this, then thank you for taking the time to read the ramblings of my mind :P I would like to thank A_Stressed_Cupcake for contributing to the Tangled fandom (and for providing us with some much-needed Brotherhood content) by writing Memories of the Brotherhood. If you haven't read it, you should definitely check it out! If I hadn't of read it at midnight a couple of nights ago, I probably wouldn't have worked up the nerve to publish my own Brotherhood content.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> maybe- perhaps; possibly

There were a lot of "maybes" going through Quirin's head at the moment.

 _Maybe_ , if he hadn't been the oldest, he wouldn't be expected to play babysitter 24/7.

 _Maybe_ , if his brother and sister would stop their complaining, he could actually get a good night's rest before training in the morning.

 _Maybe_ , if his kingdom- the kingdom he loved dearly, mind you- didn't have some inexplicable fascination with the moon, he wouldn't be lying awake at 2:36 AM trying to convince his siblings that sneaking out after curfew to watch the eclipse was _definitely_ a bad idea.

But, then again, no one ever listened to him.

It seemed- at least, for the moment- that his brother and sister had given up their arguments and settled for moping in a strained silence. One would think- _no, one would hope,_ Quirin rephrased- that the two younger children would be fast asleep in their beds as the clock's hands slowly inched toward the 3 and the 12. But, as fate would have it, the eight and ten-year-old were the exact opposite of tired.

The eight-year-old, Hector, was splayed across the ground on his back, uncharacteristically quiet. At first glance, Quirin thought that the usually loud-mouthed urchin had managed to fall asleep on the cold cement; upon further inspection, though, he caught the other boy's lime green eyes staring half-lidded at the ceiling. By the way he ogled at the roofing, one would have thought he was gazing at the starry sky he had been pestering Quirin about all night long.

Across the room, ten-year-old Adira was just as awake as her brothers. She, too, had ceased arguing with Quirin and taken to sitting criss-crossed on the edge of her bed. She had a fur blanket draped across her lap, her fingers playing with the soft strands absently. She was silent, though by the intent expression that she wore, Quirin assumed that her thoughts were still on one thing: the lunar eclipse.

If he were being honest with himself, he wouldn't have minded having some leeway with the curfew tonight. Any unusual event involving the moon- a blue moon, a harvest moon, a blood moon- called for a celebration in the Dark Kingdom: they _were_ home to the moonstone, after all. And an eclipse was certainly a sight to see. Sure, he'd seen his fair share of eclipses- too many to count- but the sight of one always resurfaced a feeling that he couldn't quite pinpoint. Appreciation, perhaps, for the sheer beauty of the celestial body? Awestruck wonder at its greatness and magnitude? Pride for the symbol that represented the Dark Kingdom, his native land?

 _Maybe,_ he thought. _That might be it._

 _Maybe,_ it wouldn't hurt to sneak out for a little while... just a little while- _**no** , _Quirin reprimanded himself. He wouldn't disobey a direct order from an authority figure- especially when the man in charge was the head knight. If they were caught, he would probably make the three of them do extra training in the morning; or worse, he would tell Quirin's _father,_ and he would be so disappointed in him that he would-

Quirin's thoughts were interrupted by a loud, exaggerated groan coming from the floor. He rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Quirin!" Hector exclaimed, shoving himself onto his elbows so that he could glare eye-to-eye with the older boy. "You know you want to see the eclipse as much as we do!"

Quirin shook his head and sighed. His heart couldn't disagree, but his mouth had to in order to keep the others in check. "There will be other eclipses." As the other boy flopped dramatically back onto the floor, another groan escaping his lips, Quirin continued, "Don't act like you've never seen an eclipse before, Hector. This is the third one this year."

Adira lifted her head slightly, her eyes focusing on the older boy. "Exactly, Quirin. This _is_ the third eclipse this year."

Hector turned his head toward Adira, a slightly-confused expression adorning his face. Quirin quirked an eyebrow, expecting her to continue. "Yeah... so?"

Adira sat up straighter, a slight smile gracing her face as she began to share her knowledge, "Yes, it is the third eclipse of the year. An event like this only happens every 200 years."

As she spoke, Hector shot up again, propping himself up with his hands behind his back. "Wait, really?"

Quirin still looked dubious. "Where did you learn that?" he questioned, his left hand finding its way to his hip.

"I heard it from one of the chambermaids," Adira admitted, "And she said exactly what I told you, 'A year with three eclipses only comes along once every 200 years.'"

"Then what are we doing just sitting here?!" Hector exclaimed. He sprang to his feet with newfound energy, much to Quirin's chagrin, and nearly sprinted toward the door. "It's even more special than I thought! We _have_ to go now!"

 _'Here we go again,'_ Quirin thought. "No, we don't," he stood from where he sat on his own bed and walked toward Hector, "It will be just like any other eclipse, Hector. What makes you think this one will look any different?"

Hector scoffed, "Weren't you listening to Adira? She just said it'll be the third one this year! The _third!_ And that only happens once in a lifetime!" He threw out his hands theatrically as if to solidify his point. "Don't you want to do something exciting _for once?"_

"If you get caught by one of the knights out there, this 'one in a life time' chance might be the last thing you do _in_ your life time." Quirin was exaggerating, of course, but he felt like he drove the point home. He paused, then said sternly, "I'm not arguing with you anymore tonight, Hector. We're going to bed. We have training in the morning. Adira-" he craned his neck to Adira's bed, and-

She was gone. The blanket that had been lying on her lap was left deserted on the floor. Quirin's eyes widened at the sight that was- or rather, _wasn't-_ before him.

At the sound of creaking, both boys turned their heads toward the door just paces away from them. The door was slightly ajar, and to the best of Quirin's knowledge, Hector hadn't gotten close enough to open it.

For what felt like the millionth time that night, Quirin sighed and shook his head. _Maybe_ , he should just admit defeat.

"Alright," he grasped Hector's hand, earning a squawk of indignation from the latter, and led them out the door, "Let's go find her before someone else does."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Adira sat criss-crossed on the castle's far left wall, away from the kingdom's ongoing festivities. If her calculations were correct, it was five minutes from 3 AM- five minutes until the beginning of the lunar eclipse was to be expected. She fixed her eyes on the inky black sky, her heart beating like a drum as she anticipated the eclipse's arrival.

 _Maybe_ , just _maybe,_ she felt a little bad about ditching the boys back in their room; she hadn't meant for them to start fighting, but it did allow her to make a silent getaway without being detected by Quirin's ever-watchful gaze. She knew he was just trying to keep them out of trouble- something that Hector was either too young or too stupid to understand. But, he _could_ stand to lighten up every once in awhile, e _specially_ when it came to a once in a lifetime event.

It wasn't too long before she spotted Quirin and Hector climbing their way up the castle's wall. If she was surprised that they had found her so quickly, she didn't let it show on her face. "Glad you could join me this fine evening," she said with a smirk.

"It's _morning,_ Adira," Quirin said, his voice dripping with exhaustion and disappointment. And, if Adira felt the slightest bit of guilt, she didn't let that show, either. "Do neither of you understand the meaning behind 'there will be other eclipses'?"

"Do _you_ understand the meaning behind 'a once in a lifetime event'?" Adira refuted.

Quirin just shook his head. He sat down next to Adira before continuing, casting one leg over the palace wall and hugging the other to his chest. He felt Hector brush against his right side as the other boy settled down, throwing both legs over the castle's ledge. "I still don't understand how this eclipse is any different from the rest."

Adira looked thoughtful for a moment, then replied, "It's the third lunar eclipse of the year. It will begin at 3 AM sharp. Most lunar eclipses are expected to last around three hours." She paused, her black eyes turning from the sky to look into Quirin's own brown ones, "And, the three of us are watching it... together."

She situated her gaze back toward the night sky. "I just guess, maybe... three might be our lucky number. Don't you think?"

Quirin looked dumbfounded for a moment. Maybe he was just tired, or maybe Adira's symbolic reasoning had finally registered, but he smiled slightly after a brief moment. "Yeah... maybe it is."

Hector, who had been looking on in mild disinterest, decided to add his two cents. "Yeah... I'm just here 'cause eclipses look cool." He shifted, a little uncomfortable, then added, "But if I had to watch it with anyone... I guess I'm glad its with you two."

Quirin chuckled before throwing his arms around his brother and sister, bringing them in closer- they didn't protest. In their empty room, the clock struck 3 AM; on the far left wall of the Dark Kingdom's castle, however, the three knights-in-training marveled as the moon passed into the Earth's shadow.

It was a sight they had all seen before, of course. But, on this night, Quirin thought, he felt as though he had finally discovered what he truly felt at the sight of an eclipse- unity, and loyalty- the ties of both friendship and family; the bonds that would hold them together as long as they shall live.

They could have sat and watched the eclipse for hours- that is, if they could keep their eyes open. Quirin felt a gentle _thud_ against his right shoulder as Hector's head made contact with it. Quirin snuck a glance toward Adira- her gaze, once fixated intently on the eclipse above them, now hung tiredly toward the ground below their feet. He brought a hand to his face as a yawn escaped through his own mouth.

No one put up a fight when Quirin ordered them to bed this time. He roused Hector awake and helped Adira to her feet. As he scaled the ladder down the castle's wall, he stole one last glance toward the fading eclipse.

Sure, _maybe_ they would regret staying up so late once they began training later that day, but would they regret the time spent together?

 _Definitely_ not.


	2. Melody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> melody- a sequence of single notes that is musically satisfying

Quirin loved sparring.

He loved the rush of adrenaline that he felt when he lunged toward his battle-ready opponents. He loved the sound that the swords made when they clanged against each other, each wielder fighting and struggling to gain the upper hand. He especially loved the time spent with his brothers (and sister), spending days and weeks and months training on the battlefield, each practice leaving them more experienced.

Yes, Quirin had to admit, he loved being a knight-in-training.

But, sometimes, he needed a break- and that’s when he tended to his garden.

Well, it wasn’t technically _his_ garden. It was the castle’s garden: a little plot of land on the outskirts of the kingdom. It was close to a lake- one that Quirin and his siblings would often swim in after a hard day's practice- and the spring water provided moisture and nutrients to the nearby valley. It was in this fertile land that the royal family's crops were able to flourish. The castle staffed a surplus of servants who were specialized in gardening; however, that didn’t stop Quirin (with Prince Edmund’s permission, of course) from visiting the garden after training to help tend to the kingdom's fruit and vegetable supply. He had visited so often, in fact, that Prince Edmund had granted the young knight a plot of land of his own.

It was therapeutic, in a way. While sparring filled him with exhilaration, gardening left him feeling content and at peace with himself. It was a nice break from all the chaos in his life. 

After he finished tilling his plot, Quirin emptied a small pouch of seeds into his palm. He lowered himself to the ground and began to sew the seeds in two at a time. As he made his way down the row, the young boy began whistling a tune- it was a nice melody, one from an old folk song- "The Silver Moon Shines Bright Above"- he had heard at a recent festival. It was lighthearted and jovial, mirroring the way he felt inside as he planted the last seeds into the ground.

He stood up, dusting his hands together. He was just about to reach for the watering can at his feet when he heard two sets of footsteps, heavy and quickly approaching. He stops whistling, the melody coming to a halt as it died on his lips. He thought he had been alone in the garden; most of the workers had retired to their homes an hour earlier. He turned around, curious, just as two young children- his siblings, Hector and Adira- stopped in front of him.

Hector was the first to speak up. “Aw, don’t let us interrupt,” he smirked, not really caring whether he interrupted or not. “You sounded like a bird.”

Quirin huffed out a laugh; he was in a good mood today. “Do birds know the tune to ‘The Silver Moon Shines Bright Above’ now?” he joked.

“A very talented bird would,” Hector said. He kicked a pebble to the side. “Why didn’t you come practice with us?”

Quirin extended his arms, gesturing toward the garden, “I have other hobbies, you know.”

“Oh, I see,” Hector remarked, “You’d rather hang out with these dumb ol’ plants than your own brothers.”

" _And_ sister," Adira quipped, arms crossed.

“The plants are a lot quieter than you are,” Quirin said, only half-joking. “There's more to life than training, Hector. You should try gardening; expand your horizons.”

“I don’t think he has the patience for gardening,” Adira stated.

Hector scoffed, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You think you could wait two months for some plants to grow?" Adira asked, "You can't even wait two minutes for your food to cool down. I once saw you eat a marshmallow that was still on fire."

The younger boy glowered, but didn't argue. Adira turned her attention to her other brother. “What are you planting, Quirin?”

“Just some collards,” he kneeled down to grab the abandoned watering can, gently tilting it so that a light sprinkle fell over his seedlings, “They grow best in cold weather like this.”

Adira's interest was piqued. “There is a lot you can do with collard greens,” she said, approving of his choice in vegetable. “You could mix them with ham and beans and make it into a soup, or you could bake it into a quiche... They taste really good with some onions and red peppers."

As Adira rattled off each recipe, Hector’s face scrunched in disgust. “You wouldn’t catch me putting that _poison_ in my mouth."

Quirin let out a small laugh. He forgot that he was four years older than the other boy, sometimes- he could put up a better fight than most boys _Quirin’s_ age. But, in moments like these, he was quickly reminded of Hector's childish immaturity. Sometimes, it was amusing- like with moments like these; other times-

Well, let's just say Quirin hoped he would grow out of it soon.

“I’m sure you’ll like collards when you’re older," Quirin stated, continuing to water his plants. "Most kids don’t like to eat their greens.”

“I’ve never been a fan of green,” Hector admitted, referring to both the color and the vegetables. “And I never will.”

“Then I guess you’ll be a shrimp forever,” Adira said, smirking, resting her arm's atop the shorter boy’s head.

Quirin sighed as Hector slapped Adira’s arms away from his head. He turned to face her and tried to wrestle her to the ground; however, Adira had both an advantage in height and weight, and easily withstood the boy's attempts at beating her based on pure strength. Quirin tuned out the fight behind him, turning his focus toward his garden. If the fight got out of hand, he would play mediator; but, for now, Quirin had more important matters to attend to.

As he finished watering the last seedling, he stood back up to his full height, stretching and wiping the sweat from his brow with a gloved hand.

Adira and Hector had stopped fighting: Adira, clearly the victor, had a triumphant smile on her face. Hector, on the other hand, looked miffed, but his expression soon turned mischievous as he caught Quirin's glance. 

“Hey, Quirin,” he smirked, “you got a little something right there.” He gestured to his own forehead with his right hand, his left hand suspiciously behind his back.

Quirin paused, removing his glove and wiping at his brow again. “Did I get it?”

“Hmmm…” Hector squinted, advancing closer, as if to get a better look, “Let me see.”

In one swift movement, Hector swooped toward the ground, scooping up a handful of soil in his left hand. Before Quirin had time to register what was going on, a handful of fresh soil was shoved into Quirin’s face.

“Nope!” the younger boy howled, “You didn’t get it!”

The other two stood silent, Adira’s wide eyes darting between the two boys as she awaited Quirin’s reaction. Quirin, who had been stunned for a moment, slowly wiped the dirt away from his eyes.

He stood there for a second, as if contemplating, before he grabbed the watering can and turned away from his siblings. Adira and Hector, who had stopped laughing as Quirin turned away, watched him curiously. To their surprise, the older began watering a patch of dirt- no seeds, no plants, no nothing. Just an ordinary patch of dirt.

Once the can was empty, Quirin tossed it aside; then, he kneeled down, slowing scooping a fistful of dirt-turned-mud into his hands. He turned back around and, carefully aiming as to not hit Adira, launched it at Hector’s face.

Now Quirin was the one laughing. He chuckled as the other boy’s lime green eyes opened in surprise, standing out like emeralds against the dark brown smeared all over his face. Quirin sobered quickly, though a smirk still graced his face as he took in Hector’s startled expression. “Now we’re even.”

"You both look ridiculous," Adira jested, chuckling lightly at her brothers' misfortune. The boys stared at her for a second before sharing a knowing glance between each other.

They leaned down simultaneously- Quirin scooping up a handful of mud, Hector grabbing two fistfuls of dirt. Adira put two and two together rather quickly, and she sprinted across the garden in long, swift strides.

It wasn't easy to catch up to her- she was the fastest by far- but once they got close enough to their target, the boys launched their ammunition: the dirt hit her square in the shoulders, sending up a dust cloud upon impact that littered her snowy hair, while the mud splatted against the back of her boots.

The boys cheered as they hit their target, high-fiving each other with dirt-covered hands. Their celebration came to an end, though, when Adira towered over them, a deadly glint in her eyes and two handfuls of soil connecting with their heads.

_It. was. on._

The next 30 minutes were spent launching and dodging mud, dirt, and soil. Quirin had called for a time-out mid-battle to set some borders- they could _only_ stay within his plot of land; the kingdom's garden was of limits. By the end of their fight, the trio were covered from head to toe in mud- it was caked onto their arms and faces, staining their clothes to the point where dirt was more visible than fabric. They would need to wash up before they returned to the castle, Quirin thought. It was a good thing he was wearing his gardening clothes, and Hector and Adira were donned in their practice clothes. Hopefully there wouldn't be too much damage.

That was a problem for later, Quirin reasoned. Right now, they all laid on the ground, trying to catch their breaths between laughter.

Finally, Quirin sat up and attempted to wipe some of the dirt off of his face and arms, the other two mimicking his actions. He took a look at his companions, and he couldn’t help but smile- although they had tried their best to clean the dirt off their faces, Hector still had a smudge across his nose, and the left side of Adira’s face was stained with dirt.

He stood up, brushing his hands along the sides of his pants and tunic. "Come on," he said, gathering his garden supplies as his siblings looked up at him, "Let's go wash up at the lake before the sun sets."

The other two got up reluctantly, mumbles of "ok" and "sure" reaching his ears as they headed for the garden’s gates. He looked on in bemusement as Hector trailed behind Adira, spying a handful of dirt hidden behind the younger boy’s back.

Quirin shook his head, though the lighthearted chuckle that came out betrayed any disappointment he might have directed toward his brother. “Wait up, you two,” he shouted, following behind them with gardening tools in hand.

As they headed toward the lake, he began whistling the same tune he had been carrying while tending to his garden. It was as cheery as ever, though this time, he whistled it stronger with a newfound vibrancy. He took up the rear behind Hector and Adira, his melody carrying over the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter is finally finished! It very loosely tied in to melody, but I like how it turned out so... it's all good.
> 
> Thank you to everyone to left kudos and/or a comment! I really appreciate it :)
> 
> Also, if you're interested, here are some headcanons to kind of fill in the details:
> 
> -Quirin, Adira, and Hector are knights-in-training. They live in the barracks of the castle with the other knights, but they have their own room. It's kind of like a boarding school, except, ya know, for knights.
> 
> -Quirin's father in alive- he's a retired knight- and he sent his son to train at the castle at age 10. Adira and Hector are orphans. They were sent to train as knights when they were 8 and 6, respectively (yeah, I know, that's kind of young, but Tangled does take place in an era where that seems more acceptable; besides, the earlier they start training, the more proficient they would be later on). Adira and Hector were probably "problem children" at the orphanage and they hoped being knights would straighten them out (or release pent-up energy).
> 
> -They don't exactly have free range over the castle (the Dark Kingdom seems a bit stricter than Corona), but they are allowed to indulge in a few personal hobbies: Adira's allowed to cook in the castle's kitchen, Hector tends to the stable horses (and other wild animals that he manages to sneak in), and Quirin likes to unwind in the garden.
> 
> -This is more of a side note, but I'm siding with the headcanon that Adira dislike of being touched is Hector's doing. At this age, I don't think that he would have given her any problems, so she's ok with activites like wrestling that involve a lot of contact. (If you headcanon as being averse to touch simply because, that's valid too! Some things don't need an explanation :) )


	3. Tradition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tradition- the transmission of customs or beliefs from generation to generation, or the fact of being passed on in this way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter deals with some instances of sexism; if you are uncomfortable with this topic, you may not want to continue reading.

The knights of the Dark Kingdom were traditionally men.

Men were the warriors: they were strong, fierce, loyal, and they would be the ones to defend and protect the kingdom if necessary. On the other hand, women were the homemakers: they cooked, cleaned, reared the children, and were expected to tend to things back home while the men were off at war. These roles had been well established for hundreds of years. Of course, there were some women who longed for the glory of the battlefield, and there were some men who yearned for the safety and security that the household provided. For the most part, though, men and women alike stuck to tradition- they would play the parts they were assigned at birth, whether they wanted to or not.

Adira, however, was anything but traditional.

She was eccentric, unconventional- and the only girl who wielded a sword amongst hundreds of men every day. At the tender age of ten, her strength and agility made her a worthy opponent, and her mastery in martial arts outmatched any boy her age. She had been training for two long years, and she had quickly developed a fighting style that gave her an advantage against most adversaries- dodge and reflect. Boys were impulsive; they would always take the first swing. She would dodge their fist or sword, and, while they recovered from their attack, she would either grasp their wrists and send them flying or knock them to the ground with a swift kick to the ankles. Adira's skills grew better and better with each passing day, and she slowly but surely earned credibility among the other knights-in-training.

Well, _most_ of the other knights-in-training, anyway.

There were still times where she would hear remarks from boys who had not quite accepted her as "one of them." She knew they were just jealous- after all, it must not be easy to lose to the "little girl" they had claimed they would make "drop to her knees and beg for mercy." Their claims had no evidence to back it up, so, as it was, their derogatory words meant nothing to her.

For the most part, she would just ignore them. She ignored them when a group of boys began whispering and pointing at her during lunch in between practice. She continued to ignore them as their whispers grew louder, their taunts and jeers directed at her gaining the attention of bystanders. She even ignored them as one of the boys- Heath, who was around Quirin's age- stood up and approached her. She didn't even spare him a glance, settling for taking a bite out of her ham and cheese sandwich instead.

Heath stopped in front of her, his large frame casting a shadow over Adira's sitting form. He sneered down at her. "What, didn't bring enough to share?"

She ignored him, taking another bite. _I should add more mayonnaise next time,_ she thought.

The boy took another step toward her. He leaned down, his face only inches away from hers. _Someone needs to teach him about personal space._

"What's wrong, Adira?" his smug voice rung out, "Not gonna answer?" He stood back to his full height, but not before smacking the sandwich that she held out of her hands and into the dust. Her dark eyes glared daggers at his offending hands.

" _Whoops_ ," he said apathetically, "My bad." When met with silence, the large boy continued, his blood simmering, "Can't even fight back. Maybe you shouldn't be out here with the big boys, _little girl_." He jerked a thumb back to the castle, "Now, why don't you run along and make me a sandwich in the kitchen, where you belo-"

He didn't finish his tirade as Adira sprang toward his extended hand. She grasped his wrist tightly in both hands, spinning him around three times bore flinging him on his back 10 feet away against the dirt floor. He groans upon impact.

"You are perfectly capable of making your own sandwich," Adira said, her voice icy, "Unless my attack gave you a concussion- then, you might have some trouble doing anything."

Heath stood up, grimacing and glaring at the young girl in front of him. He sprinted toward her, his right arm already pulled back in preparation of landing a punch to her jaw; before it made contact, however, she ducked and kicked his legs out from under him. He fell to the ground once again with a heavy thud.

Adira stood over him as his eyes readjusted. "You want to try that again?"

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“Quirin, you’ve got to come see this!” Quirin looked up from his book as he heard Hector's loud, excited tone ring out across the clearing. His leather boots pounded against the ground with each sprinted step, and Quirin watched as he came to stand still in front of him.

"What is it, Hector?" Quirin asked, leaning further against the apple tree he sat under.

"Adira's beating up Heath!"

" _What_?!"

Quirin stood upright in an instant, book forgotten, " _Why_?! What happened?"

"I don't know what happened," Hector answered, "But she's kicking his butt!"

Quirin sighed, running a hand down his face. She wouldn't be fighting him without reason, he thought, she's better than that.

"Alright, show me where they are."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

By the time Hector guided Quirin back to Adira's location, the girl and her opponent had amassed a decent sized crowd. The two weaseled their way between the other boys- some rooting for Heath, but most rooting for Adira- until they had made it to the front of the crowd. Hector cheered as the two watched Adira kick Heath square in the chest, sending him sprawling to the ground once more.

He's resilient, Adira will give him that. She had knocked him off his feet at least five times, and each time he had gotten back up again. He had landed a few hits on her- her jaw was bound to be bruised tomorrow, and her shins most likely had a couple scrapes- but she definitely had the upper hand in this battle.

With one more kick to his side, she sent Heath down again. She readied her stance as he forced himself onto his hands and knees- but this time, he doesn't stand up.

"Stop!" he bellowed, his voice exhausted, defeated, and broken. "You win."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear that," Adira stepped forward, cupping a hand to her ear, "Could you repeat what you just said?"

" _You win_!" he screamed, fuming, "You win..." He grunted as he struggled to his feet; she offered him her hand when it looked like he would topple over, but he ignored it. Finally, he steadied himself, walking away with his head lowered in shame as the other boys' eyes trailed after him. Their focus didn't stay on him too long, though, as they began to direct their praise to the victor.

Adira brushed herself off, accepting the congratulations with a humble smile and a curt bow. As she stood upright, she caught sight of her brothers approaching- Hector sprinted up to her, while Quirin followed slowly behind.

"That was awesome!" Hector exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with exhilaration, "I bet that's the last time he picks a fight with the mighty Adira!"

"I hope it's the last time _anyone_ picks a fight with Adira," Quirin interjected, then addressed Adira. "What happened? I thought you preferred to ignore them."

"He ruined my sandwich," Adira shrugged, gesturing to her forgotten lunch, "And he ruined my appetite by getting in my face. He was the one looking for a fight, not me."

"Well," Quirin said, his voice trailing off, "as long as no one was too badly hurt..."

Adira smirked, "Oh, I'm sure his pride is what hurts the most."

Quirin smiled, "I'm proud of you, Adira. It was about time someone knocked him down a peg."

"Yeah," Hector joined, "Or two or three pegs."

She grinned at her brothers' praise. She had already earned the love and respect she deserved from them; and if the other knights-in-training weren't going to give her respect as freely as they did to others, well, she would most definitely earn it.

~.~.~.~ _10 years later_ ~.~.~.~.

The knights of the Brotherhood were traditionally men.

It was in the name- a band of knights, brothers-in-arms, were initiated as part of the Dark Kingdom’s most elite group of warriors. The Brotherhood had gone obsolete hundreds, if not thousands, of years before. But, in light of recent events, King Edmund had decided to reinstate the Brotherhood.

The Brotherhood members were handpicked by the king himself. Only three were selected to fight alongside the king; in past times, most chosen were older, more experienced knights, though still in their prime, who had performed years of service and earned the loyalty of the royal family through their valiant efforts. However, King Edmund had decided on three younger warriors: he had watched them grow up within the castle’s walls for more than ten years, and he had put their skills to the test against his own swordsmanship; they passed with flying colors.

 _Yes_ , King Edmund thought, _those three will make fine warriors_ \- Quirin, Hector, and _Adira_.

No, it was not traditional for a woman to be a knight, much less a member of the kingdom’s most renowned group of protectors; but, the young woman had proven herself to be the best of the best.

It was her time to shine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a bit more Adira-centric, just cause I felt like giving her some love <3
> 
> Thank you for reading, and please leave kudos or comments down below!!
> 
> See you next chapter :)


	4. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> truth- firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something

It’s not that Hector _wasn’t_ a “people person”: it’s just that not many people gave him a good reason to like them.

People weren't trustworthy. You thought they had your back, that they would stand beside you no matter what- but when you turned around, they were gone, as if they had never been there at all.

At least, that’s how it had been with his parents.

He had been orphaned at a young age. He didn’t remember much about his parents except for the fact that they had been travelers. The three of them had been hopping from kingdom to kingdom, for reason the three-old-Hector has yet to understand, before they had landed in the Dark Kingdom.

They had stayed in the Dark Kingdom for a couple of days in order to rest and gather supplies. On the third day, the three of them went to the market to restock their inventory. Hector held his mother’s hand- she insisted that he always held her hand in busy crowds like this; so, it came as a surprise to the child when his mother suddenly loosened her grip from his chubby fingers. He looked up at her, confused, but she wasn't there.

He stood alone in the crowd of people.

His parents never returned.

He was discovered eventually, once the market's streets had cleared. The people who found him asked where his parents were; he told them what happened, and with sorrow evident on their faces, they sent him to the local orphanage.

_Abandoned,_ they had said about his case. The three-year-old didn't know what that meant, but by the way they said it, it probably wasn't good.

There were too many people at the orphanage for his liking. On the road, it had just been him, his parents, and the family mule. Now, there were dozens of other people to deal with, kids and orphanage workers alike. He tried his best to keep to himself; if he felt like playing with someone, he would scope out the black-and-white cat that one of the orphanage workers had rescued. He liked hanging out with the cat- she didn't ask him stupid questions like people did, like "What's your favorite color, Hector?" or "Why don't you play with the other kids, Hector?" or "Can I see what's in your hand, Hector?"

Apparently, "a knife" was not the appropriate response to the last question.

In fact, the orphanage workers had noticed that the young boy appeared to display more...  _ violent _ tendencies than the other children his age. How he had gotten hold of a knife could have been chalked up to a lack of adult supervision, sure; but that didn't explain why he growled at other kids when they got too close, or why he clawed at the arms of those who tried to steal the crayons he was using.

Hector believed he was "asserting his dominance"; the orphanage workers called it "a lack of proper social skills" from "hanging out with that damn cat too much."

By six years old, he had been deemed a "problem child" within the orphanage. The other kids didn't want to hang out with him- which was _totally fine_ with him- and the adults had long since stopped pushing him to socialize. Anyone seeking to adopt a child was instantly put off by his seemingly feral nature, and they ignored him in favor of the other cuter, _normal_ kids. To Hector, it seemed that they had _finally_ learned to leave him be, to let him make his _own_ choices, to let him be _comfortable_ .

It wasn't until a a carriage arrived to take him away from the orphanage- _permanently-_ did he quickly realize another reason as to why they had let him be for so long.

They had given up on him.

He couldn't help the flare of anger- of _betrayal_ \- that surged through him at the realization. He may not have  _ liked  _ the orphanage, sure- he despised it- but it had been the only place he had to call home for three years. Now, they were just kicking him out with barely a warning- not even a goodbye.

He was told to stand outside the orphanage; a driver would be coming shortly to take him away. His eyes were fixed coldly on the road ahead. One of the orphanage workers stood off to the side, as well as another child standing next to him- a girl, probably a couple of years older than him, with tanned skin, narrow eyes, and long white hair tied into twin braids.

She didn't speak a word. Neither did he.

A middle-aged man pulled up in a covered wagon soon enough. The orphanage worker ushered the two of them up the wagon, then spoke a couple of hushed words to the driver. The two sat on the wagon's bench; Hector was squished in the middle, with the driver on his left and the mystery girl on his right.

_ "Hi-yah!"  _ with a sharp  _ thwack  _ of the reigns across the horses's backs, the wagon took off, leaving a dust cloud in its wake. Hector watched through the cover of the wagon as the orphanage grew smaller and smaller, until it at last disappeared from his line of sight.  _ Good. He didn't want to stay there, anyway. _

_ You can't trust anyone,  _ he thought to himself, fighting back the tears that glistened in his eyes.  _ They'll just send you away. _

He didn't know where they were going, but the journey was taking much longer than the six-year-old's warped sense of time expected. He mostly just stared at the passing scenery, but at one point, he had taken to studying the girl beside him. She looked like a statue by the way she was sitting- perfect posture, hands folded in her lap, and legs crossed at the ankles. She sat silently, and her gaze was focused on the road ahead- she looked lost in thought.

He wondered if she was thinking what he was:  _ Where were they going? _ The orphanage was on the outskirts of town, and they had already passed through main street, the marketplace, and just about every other business and dwelling in the Dark Kingdom. There was only so much land they could cover.

He looked back toward the road, and there was only one thing in his field of vision: the Dark Kingdom's castle.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

The rest of the day felt like a blur.

The driver had dropped off the two children near the back of the castle, where a single knight stood on duty. As the two jumped out of the wagon, the knight marched over to a driver, exchanging a few words and coins with the man before he drove off toward the city. The driver slowed the wagon to a halt as he pulled in close to the castle. Instead of driving into the courtyard, as most carriages bearing passengers pulled in, he drove the horse around to the back half, where a single knight stood on duty.

The knight directed his attention toward the children, then, in the commanding voice that one would expect from a warrior, gave the two a brief overview of why they were brought to the castle: they would be knights-in-training.

OK, Hector had to admit, that sounded pretty cool; and from the way the girl perked up when she heard the news, she must have thought it was pretty cool, too.

His brain was on autopilot as the knight led them inside the castle's barracks. He was going over basic, boring stuff- stuff that Hector was sure he'd learn over time.

He led the two of them down a long corridor. Near the end of the hall, he gestured to a small room to their right. This was their room, he had stated. There were three bunks, each stacked on top of one another, and it looked like their third roommate had already been given the "grand tour"- a wooden sword leaned against the bed post, and a stack of books were placed neatly atop the room's desk.

The knight left them to get settled, his boots clicking down the corridors with each resounding step.

The girl entered the room first, placing her satchel next to the books on the desk before unfastening it. Hector followed her in, surveying the room- he had nothing to bring from the orphanage except the clothes on his back.

"You're awfully quiet," the girl stated, not looking up from her bag.

Hector glanced at her. "You haven't said anything this whole time either," he shot back.

"No," she agreed, "but I'm speaking to you now, and I doubt that you would have spoken to me if I hadn't of spoken to you first."

Hector didn't reply. The girl places her own book on the table next to the stack that was already present. "It looks like whoever we will be bunking with is a bookworm," she noted, picking up the book from the top of the stack: _101 Gardening Techniques._ How interesting.

"I'm partial to reading myself, though I'm not sure this is the material I'd be interested in," she said bemused, showing the book in her hand to Hector. He just stared at it.

"I don't know what that says," he admitted. "I don't know how to read."

"Oh," the girl said, slightly surprised. "I'll have to teach you sometime, if you're interested."

Hector shrugged, "Not really." He didn't have time to learn how to read- he was going to be a knight! He needed to learn how to wield a sword and fight in hand-to-hand combat; knights didn't need to know how to read, they just needed to know how to _fight_.

The two passed the time in awkward silence. Hector watched as the girl unpacked her belongings. It didn't look like she brought much either- a spare tunic, a hairbrush, some other personal belongings- but putting each item away kept her busy.

In the meantime, Hector decided to claim which bunk would be his. He chose the top one- the bottom one looking like it had been claimed by their missing roommate- and climbed up the ladder to make it official. He wanted to explore the castle and the surrounding areas- the tour they were given _had_ been pretty brief, and Hector _had_ zoned out for most of it. Hopefully, they would be allowed to explore tomorrow after training-

His thoughts were interrupted by the creak of the door opening. He looked down from his position on the top bunk to see a boy a little older than him, maybe around 10, enter the room. He looked sweaty, and his hands were dirty as if he had been planting something, but he looked content.

A wave of surprise hit the other boy as he noticed the other two children, but his confusion gave way to a welcoming smile as he introduced himself.

"If I had known new recruits were coming in today," he started, "then I would have stayed to welcome you."

The boy seemed nice enough, Hector thought. He had introduced himself as Quirin, then began asking them their names, their hobbies, their ages- he seemed a little disconcerted when Hector stated he was six years old. Hector let the girl- who he had learned was named Adira- do most of the talking, though their conversation died down as the two became preoccupied with other matters: Quirin with his book, and Adira with her unpacking.

The rest of the day went fast. Quirin guided the two to the mess hall at 7 for dinner- mashed potatoes, peas, and some mystery meat that Hector couldn't quite place, but chose to scarf down anyway. After dinner, the three returned to their room and prepared for bed, ready for a long day of training that started at 6 AM.

Hector climbed up the ladder and settled on his top bunk. Adira made herself comfortable in the middle bunk, as Quirin had already claimed the bottom one. Once everyone had settled, the eldest blew out the candle, and the room was enveloped in darkness.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

_ All he sees is green. _

_ A mist- bright and unbearably  _ green _ \- hangs over his eyes; it weighs heavy in the air like fog, yet suffocates his lungs like smoke. He feels lightheaded, his eyes and his mind clouded over as the mist grows thicker. _

_ Suddenly, a figure emerges from the mist. The being is monstrous in appearance, with its razor-like teeth curled into a menacing smile, horns- similar to a ram's- protruding from the sides of its ugly head, and bright yellow eyes glowing unnaturally, searing straight through his soul. _

_ He wants to run, to hide, to do  _ anything _ to get away from the creature that's slithering toward him. But, to his dismay, his legs are planted to the ground; in fact, it feels like his entire body is frozen, as if he's lost all control- _

_ He hears the beast cackling, a villainous shriek that rings though his ears. It starts out low and unnerving, then grows louder and louder until it no longer feels as if the sound is simply near him, but  _ inside _ him. _

_ The monster is coming closer, slithering toward him at lightning speed, but his whole body is paralyzed in fear. He can't run. He can't hide. She's coming closer and he can't do  _ anything  _ it's gonna get him it's gonna get him  _ it's got him-

He jolted awake as his body slammed against the ground, pain shooting through his bones upon impact. He almost cried out- almost- but he shut his mouth before anything came out, not wanting the others to wake and see him in this state.

He settled for a low groan, as if it would help expel some of the pain. He shut his eyes tightly, lying on the ground to collect his bearings. He was just about to get up when he heard whispering near his ear.

"Hector? Hector, are you alright?" 

As he cracked one eye open, he was met with the concerned face of Adira. He groaned again lightly, then pushed himself up so that he was resting on the back of his hands.

"I'm fine," he answered, wincing slightly as a sharp pang shoots up the shoulder he had previously landed on.

His discomfort didn't go unnoticed. "Did you hurt yourself?" she asked anxiously. "Where does it hurt?"

"Nowhere," he turned away quickly, tired of the interrogation already. "I said I'm fine."

The girl frowned, though she didn't push him any further. "If you say so."

The two sat in silence. Hector expected her to return to her bunk, but she remained seating criss-crossed on the floor next to him, keeping him company. Then, in a hushed tone, Adira spoke up.

"I've been awake for awhile," she stated, "And I couldn't help but notice that you tend to...  _ thrash around  _ when you sleep. Even before you rolled out of bed."

When he gave no reply, she continued, "So, I'm going to ask you again: Are you alright?" she paused. "And I'm not talking about physically, Hector. I'm talking about the nightmares. Are you alright?"

Hector stopped himself from repeating his previous answer, contemplating Adira's question. He barely knew this girl- how could she expect him to confide his deepest, darkest fears to someone he had met less than 24 hours ago? Yet, surprisingly, a part of him wanted, _yearned_ , to talk to someone, _anyone-_ if only to get it off his chest. And, he wouldn't admit it, but for some reason he felt some kind of bond, an _attachment_ , with the older girl. Somehow, a part of him knew that she could be _trusted_.

He made his decision. "You have to promise you won't tell anyone."

Adira nodded her head, "I give you my word."

So, he recounted his dream to her: he told her about the mist, the horns, the glowing eyes, the screams. He told her how it felt to be paralyzed in fear, as if he were bound by some invisible force to keep him from running away from _whatever_ that monster was- 

"I-" he faltered, his voice cracking as the visions resurface. He regained his composure, then continued, "I- don't want to talk about it anymore."

Adira frowned, her eyes furrowing in concern, but she nodded understandingly.

"Alright," she resigned. "Just know that if you ever want to talk about it," she stood up and offered him her hand, "I'm all ears."

He looked up at her, then managed a small grin. He took her hand, hoisting himself up. They stood in awkward silence.

"I'm going back to bed," Adira finally said, walking toward the ladder, "and I suggest you do the same."

Hector nodded in agreement. He followed her up the ladder, noting that the pain in his shoulder had died down considerably. He situated himself again, crawling under the covers and hugging the side of the wall _just_ a bit closer than he was last time- just in case.

His thoughts trailed to Adira. She didn't _have_ to make sure he was alright. She didn't _have_ to stay up with him and listen to his troubles. She didn't _have_ to care about him; but  _ she did,  _ and it felt  _ nice  _ and  _ real  _ and  _ genuine _ . For the second time that night, he felt as if he could _really_ trust her; she wouldn't betray his trust. Not like the others.

He yawned, snuggling further under the covers. He could think about Adira later. Right now, he needed some rest before 6 AM rolled around.

He closed his eyes, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion, and almost immediately drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this turned out much longer than I expected, but I'm happy with how it came out :)
> 
> Also! I am still working on my word prompts for these guys, BUT if anyone has any ideas/requests, I will try my best to fit them within these drabbles or a different story (as long as it pertains to the Brotherhood, does not involve romance, and I am comfortable with writing it; thank you for understanding <3)
> 
> Kudos/comments are always appreciated, and thank you for reading!


	5. Expectation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> expectation- a strong belief that something will happen or be the case in the future; a belief that someone will or should achieve something

As the eldest of his siblings, Quirin was expected to be "the responsible one"- and he had quickly taken his role as 'big brother' very seriously.

It was his job to look after Adira and Hector: they seemed to have a knack for getting into trouble, no matter how hard Quirin tried to prevent it. It was almost inevitable that the trio would find themselves in some crazy predicament each week, and when they did, the eldest considered it his duty to make sure that the three of them got out of it _mostly_ unscathed. 

(Of course, the other two would always insist that they "had it under control" or that they "could take care of themselves"; but, Quirin knew deep down they appreciated his efforts).

It was his job to be a leader, a caretaker, and most of all, a good big brother. It was his job to take care of the scraped knees sustained during practice, to make sure the others talked things out after a fight, to take care of _this_ and _that_ and _all this other stuff_ so that his siblings wouldn't have to. It was his job to protect them, and Quirin wouldn't have it any other way.

But, it was also his job- _no, his father's expectation of him_ \- to serve as a knight to the Dark Kingdom.

In fact, it was the only path his father would accept for him...

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

_It was an unnaturally hot day in the Dark Kingdom._

_The stifling heat had caused most of the kingdom's subjects to retreat indoors. The residents of the Dark Kingdom were much more accustomed to cooler weather (if the thick furs that most wore as part of their wardrobe didn't give it away). The sun rarely blazed over the land that housed the moonstone, even during the summer months; today, though, the celestial body seemed to glare down from the heavens with a fierce intensity, causing the kingdom's citizens to return to the dark, cool sanctity of their homes._

_Some citizens, however, remained undeterred by the sun's blaze._

_Quirin wiped his brow as he drug his rake across the ground, loosening the soil of his makeshift garden. It wasn't much- just a plot of land in his backyard that his father had (reluctantly) allowed him to use- but, it was enough to plant a few rampion seeds. He had gotten them for a bargain from a botanist in the marketplace, most likely because they grew best in full sun- and full sun, as was previously established, was not something the Dark Kingdom was particularly known for._

_Luckily for him, the sun seemed to be providing a year's worth of light that day. He couldn't complain about the heat; sure, it made gardening a little more exhausting, but his plants would enjoy the sun's rays for as long as it lasted._

_He was just about to continue loosening the soil when he heard a familiar voice behind him._

_"Drop the rake, son."_

_Quirin turned around to face his father, who was walking out of the house with what looked like a crudely-wrapped present in his hands._

_He let his rake drop to his side._

_His father was an..._ intimidating _man, to say the least. He had served as a knight to the Dark Kingdom in his younger days- his "glory days," as he often referred to them. He had fought bravely and valiantly in battle, and he had only retired from service after a sword to the leg had damaged his nerves and left him physically unable to fight (and even then, they had to drag him out of the barracks kicking and screaming). He still walked with a limp, but that didn't stop him from making his way from the backdoor to Quirin in record time._

_"That's better," his father said approvingly. "Now, here: I've got something better for you to hold."_

_He handed the present to Quirin, who received it with outstretched arms. The present was long and thin, though heavier than it looked. It was wrapped in old newspapers tied together with twine, and although Quirin couldn't see what was inside of it, he had a good idea as to what it may have been..._

_His father cleared his voice, and Quirin's head snapped to attention. "Now, I know your birthday is tomorrow, but," he spoke, his voice trailing off, "I just had to give this to you now." He nodded his head toward the gift that Quirin held, but had yet to open._ __

_Quirin understood the message. At his father's command, he began opening his birthday present, letting the twine and newspaper fall to the ground over his rake._

_His sight confirmed what he had previously been thinking: in his hands was an old wooden sword. It had been his father's training sword. It was a little worn with use and age, but it was still strong and sturdy enough to fight with; ever since he could remember, his father had always said that he would pass it down to Quirin one day._

_It looked like today was the day._

_"My father gave it to me for tenth birthday," his father spoke up, his voice slightly nostalgic. "I thought it would suffice for your's."_

_Quirin turned the sword over and over in his hands. It was a thoughtful present- he knew how much his father valued the relics from his "glory days." He had always known he would inherit it one day- his father said so often enough; however, whenever his father spoke of the wooden sword, he also spoke of_ where _he would be using it._

_"It'll be perfect for training at the castle."_

_The_ castle. _He was ten years old, now; many fathers sent their sons to the barracks once they had turned ten years old. And now it was his turn- to leave home, to leave his garden, to leave his father, to leave his old life behind-_

_"So, what do you think?"_

_Quirin looked up as his father questioned him. He couldn't tell him the truth; it wouldn't make a difference, anyway._

_"It's great, father," he said, managing a small smile. "Thank you."_

_His father smiled back at him. It was a genuine smile- Quirin hadn't seen one of those from him in a long time. Pride shown in his eyes._

_"A real man should carry a sword, son."_

_He put his hand on his son's shoulder, guiding him away from the garden and toward the house. Quirin looked back longingly, sword hanging limply at his side._

_"Maybe in a couple of years, I'll get you the real deal."_

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

It had been two years since Quirin had received his training sword. It hung proudly next to his siblings's swords from its place on the far wall.

Quirin's twelfth birthday was quickly approaching, and he had a feeling that the "real deal" his father spoke about would be coming very soon.

He didn't know how to feel about that.

It's not that he _didn't_ want to become a knight. He loved slinging swords around as much as the next twelve-year-old boy.

But, he _also_ loved gardening, and reading, and just taking a moment to _relax and breathe_. He didn't want to spend _all_ of his time fighting.

Alas, fate had other plans. Perhaps, in another life, he could've been destined to become a farmer. He could live a life of hard but honest work; he would sow the seeds, water the fields, and harvest the crops- it was a peaceful existence that Quirin could only dream of living at this point...

"Hey, Quirin, you wanna come spar with me and Adira?"

Quirin's head shot up as his daydream was interrupted by his youngest sibling, Hector, who was currently standing in the doorway of their joint room. "Prince Edmund said he's gonna teach us how to wield two swords at once! I'll be unstoppable!"

"I'm gonna pass, Hector," Quirin said, shaking his head at the boy's exclamation. "I think I'm just gonna take it easy today."

"Your loss," the younger boy replied, shrugging his shoulders and walking over to grab his and Adira's wooden swords from their mounts on the wall. "Just don't be surprised when I wipe the floor with you at practice tomorrow. With _two_ swords."

Quirin rolled his eyes as the door slammed shut and listened to the sound of leather boots stomping down the corridor as his brother raced toward the training field.

He was alone now. He glanced toward his wooden sword, which now hanged against the wall alone as well.

He stood up from his bed with a sigh. He walked over to where his sword was mounted and took it into both hands.

Soon enough, he would be holding the "real deal." Soon enough, he would be fighting on a battlefield rather than a training field. Soon enough, he would be battling _actual_ opponents instead of his siblings. He needed to be prepared if he was going to protect himself, his kingdom, his _siblings_.

It was his destiny to become a knight. It was what his father expected of him, so maybe, he should just accept it. He would make his father proud.

With his sword in hand, he marched toward the training field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I really love Quirin. He deserves the world, but the world doesn't deserve him.
> 
> Here, have some headcanons:  
> \- Quirin’s relationship with his father is similar to Varian’s relationship with Quirin: both sons have hobbies/passions that their fathers just don’t understand. The difference between them is that Quirin’s father practically insisted that his son become a knight without giving him a chance to 'find his own destiny'; Quirin, learning from his own father’s mistakes, allows Varian to experiment with alchemy, even if it does blow up in his face (figuratively and literally) from time to time- he just asks that his son do it safely.  
> \- SPOILERS FOR THE FINALE START HERE---  
> Edmund was the one who trained the Brotherhood members, which means I’ll probably try to incorporate him into later chapters. The way he acts and talks in the finale leads me to believe he was sort of a big brother figure to the trio (“Why did I ever let him get a rhino?”), so I’ll probably write him as maybe... 5 years older than Quirin?  
> \- (On this note- since I already wrote a chapter inferring that there were more members of the Brotherhood and that there were more knights-in-training besides Quirin, Adira, and Hector, I’m just gonna say that Edmund took a special liking to these three. Also, Edmund was the one who got Adira and Hector their own wooden swords, because I said so.  
> \- SPOILER FOR THE FINALE END HERE.
> 
> ALSO! I am still taking requests for Brotherhood drabbles (as long as there's no romance and I'm comfortable with the idea). Please keep in mind though that I would still like to finish my word prompts, so I can't guarantee that they will be out quickly.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	6. Fear Pt. 1 (Adira)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fear- an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> This chapter (and the next two chapters) focus on the Brotherhood's "childhood fears," which were suggested by CheeseIsNice. I am still working on my word prompts, but I also want to hear what you guys want to read! So, if anyone has requests, I am happy to take them (as long as they are Brotherhood related, non-romantic, and I am comfortable with the idea <3)
> 
> I was trying to make them short enough to fit into one chapter, but... that didn't happen. So, we're splitting this into three parts. The more the merrier! :)
> 
> Enjoy!

"Hey guys! Look at this dog I found in the street!"

Quirin stopped mid-spar with Adira to turn around and face what was most likely a problem that would take up the rest of his afternoon. He _really_ wished he hadn't grown accustomed to hearing his little brother say things like, _"Quirin, check out this snake in my pocket!"_ or _"I found these kittens outside the castle- don't worry, there's only five of them;"_ but alas, the universe didn't seem to care at all about what he wished for, and it was only a matter of time before Hector started bringing in... _larger_ creatures.

And as he turned around to face Hector and his newest animal companion, Quirin decided to change " _larger_ " to " _absolutely_ _massive_."

If he hadn't known any better, Quirin would have classified that dog as a horse. It nearly towered over his brother- the two could probably make eye contact at their full heights- and there was _no way_ it didn't weigh _at least_ 200 pounds.

"Hector, for the last time," Quirin sighed, lifting a hand up to rest on his temple, "you _can not_ keep bringing animals to the barracks. No pets allowed, remember?"

"But Prince Edmund let me keep those kittens---" Hector started.

" _Until_ we found them good homes," Quirin finished.

The younger boy huffed in response. "Well, maybe he'll let me keep her here until we can find her a good home. I don't think she's a regular street dog- she might be lost, or abandoned."

_"There is no way that_ thing _is staying here."_

The two turned to the source of the voice. Adira had stayed silent ever since the dog interrupted her training; but now, she spoke up, he voice sounding tense and strained. Her stance mirrored the rigidness of her tone, and Quirin couldn't help but notice that she had situated herself into a defense position. He was about to ask her if she was alright before another voice cut in.

"Relax, Adira, she's really friendly," Hector stated, petting behind the dog's ear, "And really well-trained. That's why I don't think she lives on the streets. Look!"

"Shake." He offered his arm to the dog, and she reciprocates by extending her large paw.

"Roll over." The dog flopped onto the ground, then, with a bit of effort, proceeded to flip herself over and stand back up.

"Speak."

At this command, the massive beast emitted a bellowing bark- Hector didn't seem affected by it, but the volume alone was enough to make Quirin wince, and he swore the sound could be heard from a mile away.

Adira, however, appeared to be the most startled by the dog's howling. If she had seemed slightly on edge before, then now, she had taken the leap. In one movement, she whipped out her wooden sword from its holster and raised it, ready to attack if necessary. Her hands were unsteady, her legs were shaking beneath her, and there was a glint of fear in her eyes as they zeroes in on the beast in front of her.

The dog seems to sense the tense change in atmosphere, as she continues to yelp and bark after Hector commands her to stop- the sound only serving to further increase Adira's anxiety. Hector stood between the dog and Adira, ready to intercept an attack from either side, while Quirin attempted to snap Adira out of it.

But Quirin doesn't see what Adira sees, because as the dog kept _barking_ , and _howling_ , and _snarling_ , all Adira can see is _a monster._

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_It was the first day of spring. The weather was pleasant enough- perhaps a little chilly, but that's what coats were for- so, the headmaster of Ms. Shelby's Orphanage for Young Girls decided to let the children play out in the front yard. They had been cooped up inside all winter, and one girl in particular was ready for some fresh air._

_In a small clearing, away from most of the activity, three-year-old Adira was drawing in the dirt with a stick. She had_ wanted _to play swords, but none of the other girls had wanted to play with her. She remained unfazed, however, and decided to pick up a nearby twig and settle down in a patch of dirt._

_Her pictures were coming along nicely (or, as nicely as they could be- she was only three, after all)- she drew a cake in this corner, a flower in that one, two guys fighting to the death over here..._

_Yep. They were coming along nicely._

_She would look up from her sketches every once in a while to see what the other girls were doing. They weren't doing much- a couple of girls were hogging the swing set, others were climbing trees, racing to see who could reach the top first, and some of the older girls were just sitting around, chatting idly._

_Nope. They weren't doing much._

_She was about to return to her drawings when she heard a small_ "woof" _behind her. She turned around to see two other girls- one wearing a green bow and the other wearing a plaid skirt- playing fetch with one of the local street dogs. Green Bow held a large stick in her hand, keeping it just out of reach of the dog's expecting muzzle; then, she threw it across the yard, the mutt chasing eagerly after it. It brought it back to the girls, dropping the stick at their feet, and the two showered it with praise. The dog seemed content with this reward, happily accepting their praise with a bark of approval and a wag of its tail. Then, either Green Bow or Plaid Skirt would pick up the stick again, and the whole process would be repeated._

_The whole concept of fetch seemed tedious to Adira, and she returned to her drawings after watching the dog fetch the stick for the seventh time._

"Watch out!"

_Adira's eyes caught sight of the large stick that the girls had been using for fetch as it landed just a few feet in front of her. Fearing the worst, she turned around just in time to come face to face with the creature that would haunt her for years to come- a beast, twice as big as the three-year-old, was barreling toward her at a mile a minute. To anyone else, it looked like a normal dog; to Adira, it had black, soulless eyes and razor-sharp teeth with slobber dribbling down its mouth and chin. It looked like a monster._

_It barked twice, as if to warn the young girl to get out of its way, but she couldn't heed its warning before it plowed over her small body._ _As she's knocked onto her back, she could feel the beast's paws make contact with her head and stomach, bruising her from the pressure. She cried out, both in pain and in shock, and she vaguely remembered Plaid Skirt helping her to her feet while Green Bow ran to get one of the orphanage workers. She didn't stop crying- as much as she wanted to remain stoic and brave- and the tears flowed freely down her cheeks._

_She calmed down, eventually. The pain subsided, but the vision of the dog trampling her was still ingrained in her mind..._

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_"Adira! Stop!"_

It wasn't easy to wrestle a sword out of Adira's hands even when she _wasn't_ fueled by fear; so, Quirin settled for gripping her wrists, restraining her swinging down in case either her or the dog decided to advance toward the other. "Hector, would you _shut that thing up_?"

"I'm trying!" Hector shouted back. He continued to whisper words of comfort to the dog, stroking her from head to tail in an effort to calm her down.

Quirin returned his focus to Adira. "Adira- Adira, listen to me," he started, his words soft yet firm. "It's not going to hurt you, Adira. We won't let it. You know that, right?"

Adira loosened up slightly, though she still held her sword in a death grip.

In the background, Quirin noted that the dog's barking had grown quieter and less frequent. Finally. "See? It's ok. We've got everything under control."

At Quirin's words and the dog's quietness, Adira began to relax slowly but surely. She could feel her heart rate slowing down and her breathing leveling out, and relief washed over her as she took in the sweet sound of silence.

"Hey, Adira... you can... put the sword down now," Hector said after a moment's silence.

Adira reluctantly lowered her sword back into its sling at the realization that she still held high above her head in a battling position. As she did, though, her gaze wandered to the dog, her eyes narrowing at the beast laying by Hector's side. The dog, as if sensing the girl's animosity, stared back at Adira. She didn't bark, but Adira took a step back out of precaution anyway.

"So, um... what was that about?" Hector asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Adira took a moment to choose her words carefully. "Let's just say that dogs and I... don't have that great of a history together."

The boys didn't push her any further- that was the best explanation they were going to get from her.

"Y'know, she really _is_ friendly," Hector said after a minute, still petting the dog soothingly. "She's not gonna hurt you or anything."

"She does look tame," Quirin agreed, walking closer to take a good look at the dog. He extended his arm, allowing the dog to sniff his hand- she did so, and upon approving of his scent, she nuzzled against his outstretched palm.

Quirin smirked as he scratched behind her ear, "And if she _does_ start acting up again, we can just leave her with Hector and let it be his problem."

He ignored Hector's indignant squawk, instead focusing on Adira's response. To his relief, she gives a half-hearted smile.

"It's up to you, Adira," Quirin spoke again. "I'm not going to pressure you or anything, but... Do you want to give it another shot?"

Adira shifted her focus from Quirin to the dog at his side. She hadn't barked once since the earlier fiasco- the only noise she made was the sound of her constant panting. As she looked closer, Adira noted that the dog's face didn't remind her of the beast she had encountered all those year ago: instead of razor-sharp teeth, she saw a big floppy tongue, and instead of dark, soulless eyes, she saw big brown ones that melted her heart. If she were to be honest with herself, this dog didn't look scary at all- in fact, she was kind of _cute_.

Adira took a hesitant step forward, then another, and another, until she was mere inches away from the massive dog. She extended her hand toward it, like she had seen Quirin do earlier. The dog sniffed her hand, taking a little longer than she did with Quirin; just as Adira was about to deem it a lost cause, the dog licked her arm, leaving a trail of slobber on it.

She grimaced at the sight, but let it go almost immediately- even if it was _gross,_ it was better than being trampled over. In a show of friendship and mutual respect, Adira smiled and pet the dog's head, earning her another lick of affection.

They all knew that they couldn't keep her at the castle- there were no pets allowed in the barracks, and a dog this sweet was bound to have a home nearby. Still, for the time being, the trio had found a new companion; and, more importantly, Adira had faced her fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's part one! Parts two and three should be out shortly :)
> 
> And just another reminder that I am taking requests, so tell me what y'all want to read in the comments!
> 
> See y'all next time <3


	7. Fear Pt. 2 (Hector)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fear- an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat

"Now, just relax. This won't hurt a bit."

That was what the doctor had said, at least, and Hector _may have_ been inclined to believe him- if it wasn't for the _enormous_ needle that the man was brandishing in his hands. 

Now, unlike most of his fellow knights-in-training, Hector had not been dreading the prospect of being inoculated. He could tolerate pain well enough, if the numerous cuts and bruises he sustained from practice spoke for anything; and, while he had never been vaccinated before, he figured the pain that the other boys talked so _dreadfully_ about couldn't be any worse that taking a hit from Adira's wooden sword.

That's why he was unfazed as the nurse ushered him inside the doctor's quarters, seating him in the chair in the middle of the room. He remained unfazed as she rolled up his sleeve and rubbed disinfecting alcohol on his shoulder, even as the cool sensation prickled his skin. He wasn't even fazed by the doctor's grating voice rattling in the background, asking him questions and explaining the procedure in medical jargon that Hector could only half way understand.

Nope, he wasn't fazed one bit.

It wasn't until his eyes caught sight of the needle that all of his bravado flew out the window. As the doctor approached him- carrying the needle in the fashion that a warrior might wield a sword, ready to slice him open while he was vulnerable- there was only one thought going through Hector's mind.

 _There was_ no way _that needle was going into_ his arm. 

He shrunk back into the chair as the doctor came closer, his knuckles turning white as they gripped the sides of the chair. As the doctor leaned closer, ready to inject the needle into his body, Hector’s eyes zeroed in on the doctor’s own arm.

This was his chance to escape.

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Quirin and Adira had been waiting in the hall outside of the medical bay for nearly an hour now.

The king had ordered earlier that day that all of the knights and knights-in-training would be subject to inoculation after they had finished practice: a wave of disease had swept over the Dark Kingdom almost over night. The disease wasn't dangerous- only the very young and the elderly could be seriously affected, doctors warned- but, as the kingdom's current and future generations of protectors, the knights of the Dark Kingdom were expected to remain in tip-top shape in case any threats were to arise.

The inoculation process was supposed to be a quick and simple one: you were taken to a separate room where the nurse would seat you, ask you a couple questions, and disinfect your shoulder with rubbing alcohol, while the doctor would prepare the vaccine and inject it into your arm via a needle. It was mostly painless, and the routine process made it very easy to inoculate the troops within a day's work.

The knights were sent through first. Once the last of them had been inoculated, the knights-in-training were ordered next. Quirin, Adira, and Hector had taken up the line's rear. As they waited, they heard many of the boys whispering worriedly to each other, wondering aloud how painful the process might be. As the line grew shorter, the number of boys who exited the doctor's quarters, each one rubbing their shoulder to ease the pain, grew larger.

Hector had insisted on going first between the three siblings- though he had never gotten a shot, he wanted to prove that it “wasn’t that bad,” and that the other boys were just “being _wimps_.” Quirin and Adira obliged- it didn't matter one way or the other to them- allowing the youngest to enter the room first once they had made it to the front of the line.

They had expected him to be in and out within a couple of minutes; what they _hadn’t_ expected was to hear a bloodcurdling scream- and it _didn’t_ sound like Hector.

The two shared an anxious glance as they heard what could only be described as _absolute chaos_ ensue from behind closed doors- a few more shouts and screams, the sound of clanging and shattering as miscellaneous items were knocked over, a body scuttling across the floor, and finally, what sounded like a cabinet door slamming shut. Then, everything went quiet.

After a few moments of silence, the nurse- her once neatly-tied bun looking a little worse for wear now- opened the door just wide enough to peek her head out timidly.

“Are either of you perhaps friends with that _little monst-_ I mean, Hector?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly.

Quirin sighed, letting a hand slide down the side of his face. _One day, just one day where nothing happens---_

"What did he do this time?" he questions tiredly, because _of course_ Hector couldn't be left alone without doing _something._

"He bit the doctor," the nurse replied, her eyes shifting to look around her nervously, "and is now hiding in the cabinet."

She opens the door a little wider. "He won't come out with just the two of us in here," she continued, referring to herself and the doctor, "but, _hopefully_ , seeing you two might calm him down."

The nurse led the pair inside the medical bay. The doctor himself looked pretty shaken- he leaned against the counter, trying to catch his breath, and cradled his left arm- the arm, Quirin and Adira presumed, that Hector bit. The two of them scanned the room to assess the damage- the chair was knocked over in the middle of the room, and some vials and papers were scattered across the floor- _hopefully nothing too expensive or important_ , Quirin hoped.

At the sight of the two children, the doctor looked up; then, with his good arm, he pointed toward the cabinet against the far wall. "He's in there," he offered, and nothing more.

That was enough for Quirin and Adira. They walked stealthily toward the cabinet together- Adira grabbed the handle, and Quirin stood at the ready in front of the cabinet. With her free hand, Adira counted down from _three, to two, to one_ \- then, she yanked the door open, revealing a very frazzled looking Hector inside. His eyes looked almost owlish in their size, and his defensive pose was similar to that of a cornered animal.

In an instant, he darted out of his hiding place. Quirin sprung into action, grabbing Hector from behind and wrapping his arms around Hector's smaller ones. He was incapacitated- for the moment, at least- but he still struggled to break free. Quirin had to give him some credit- despite his smaller stature, his little brother was _strong..._ just not as strong as him.

He and Adira held him down as Hector continued to kick, scream, and bite at them. It was no use trying to calm him down with words- he would wear himself out eventually.

And wear himself out, he did- though it took much longer than either Quirin or Adira cared for as they gently rubbed where Hector had managed to leave a few marks.

"Hector," Adira was the one to start after everyone had caught their breath, "Do you mind explaining to us what _that_ was all about?"

"He tried to stab me!" Hector exclaimed. "With _that_ thing." He pointed to the large needle lying dejectedly on the floor a few feet away from them.

Quirin sighed, exasperated. "That's a _needle_ , Hector. It's how they give vaccines. That's his _job."_

"Yeah, well, he didn't have to look so _menacing_ with it," Hector reasoned weakly, glaring at the doctor as he said so. The doctor glared back at him.

"It's just a little needle, Hector," Adira stated. " There's nothing to be scared of. It's not even as sharp as a dull sword."

"I'm not scared!" Hector argued, insulted, "And that's a really poor comparison, Adira. I'd rather not have _either_ enter my body."

"Oh, _of course_ you're not scared," Adira replied, quirking an eyebrow, "Because people who _aren't_ afraid of needles _always_ bite doctors when they come at them with a needle."

"Hector, trust me," Quirin spoke up before Hector could shoot back with another vicious remark, "I've had this done before, and... no, it does not feel very pleasant. But, you don't _have_ to watch, and it'll be over in seconds."

At his brother's reasoning, Hector calmed down slightly.

“It’s about as bad as being pinched," Adira said, still aware of the worry on her younger brother's face. "So, if you can stand this---” she pinched his arm teasingly, causing him to smack her arm away, missing, “Then I’m sure you can stand getting a shot.”

She smirked at the miffed look on his face. "Was _that_ a better comparison?"

Hector ignored her remark, and instead, he contemplated what they had told him earlier. He didn't _have_ to watch, and if it was as quick as they told him it was... then, maybe, he didn't have anything to be afraid of.

Despite the slight worry that still weighed on his chest, he worked up the courage to stand up and walk over to the fallen chair. He picked it up and took a seat.

"I think I'm ready," he addressed the doctor. Then, turning to Quirin and Adira, he asked, "Um... Can you two stay here?"

"If it's alright with the doctor..." Quirin began, and at the doctor's careless shrug, he continued, "I don't see why not."

The siblings walked over to where he was seated as the doctor approached with the re-cleaned needle. Hector grabbed his brother's hand, holding it in a death grip, while his sister placed a steadying hand on his free shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut as the needle's point brushed his left shoulder, and he squeezed Quirin's hand even harder to keep himself from running again. 

He feels a slight pinch, and then... nothing. The doctor wrapped a piece of cloth over his exposed shoulder.

"Alright, you're good to go."

Hector opened his eyes in surprise. "Wait, that's it?"

Adira smirked from behind him. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I didn't feel a thing!" the boy exclaimed, "And all the other guys were complaining about how bad it hurt- heh, _wimps_."

Quirin had to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes at his brother's hypocrisy. "Good job, Hector," he said- and he really did mean it. "Now, get out of the chair so Adira and I can get ours."

Of course, Hector didn't stop bragging about getting inoculated all week, claiming that he "didn't feel a thing" to the so-called 'wimps' who complained that the shot had left them sore and aching all weekend.

If only it had kept Hector from complaining that "the shot was useless" when he got sick the following week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of 3 is up!
> 
> Honestly, I just wrote this one so I could have Hector bite the doctor and show off his rabid feral side.
> 
> Next up: Quirin!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	8. Fear Pt. 3 (Quirin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fear- an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 is out! Finally!
> 
> Thank you CheeseIsNice for the suggestion! Also, I am still taking suggestions (as long as they are Brotherhood related and do not involve romance), so ask away in the comments!
> 
> Enjoy!

_Quirin may have just been eight years old, but even_ he _knew there was a chance that his father was_ not _coming back._

_It was a well known fact that the knights of the Dark Kingdom were some of the fiercest, most vicious, and most proficient fighters across the continent. Quirin's father was one of them: the man had served the crown for nearly twenty years on the battle field, gaining a reputation among the troops as an excellent strategist, a fearless cavalry leader, and an excellent swordsman. He had been released from active duty upon the birth of his son (and, consequently, the death of his wife), yet he still trained day and night, ready to fight in the name of the Dark Kingdom if they were to ever go to war._

_And what was the point of having highly-trained warriors if they_ never _went to war?_

_Well, Quirin didn't know if he could classify this latest dispute as a 'war.' He hadn't heard the full story, but from what his father had hurriedly told him late that night, a rather... 'bloody'_ _disagreement had erupted between two farmers- one from the Dark Kingdom, the other from a neighboring kingdom- over field boundaries. The farmer from the Dark Kingdom attacked the farmer from the rival kingdom- little did the first farmer know, however, was that the second farmer had ties with his kingdom's royal family. The soldiers from the rival kingdom burned down his farm; in response, the farmer from the Dark Kingdom asked for military aid, and King Alden (always one for a good fight) obliged. He sent out a dozen troops that night, and the knights went door-to-door, gathering any man (or woman) willing to fight._

_That was how Quirin's father had discovered the news, and he didn't waste a moment before he began packing for battle. "It'll be a three-days journey to get there from here," the older man had said as he seized his silver sword from it's mantle above the fireplace, "So I must leave as soon as possible. Go ready my horse, will you, Quirin?"_

_Quirin, who had stood watching the scene unfold in silence, did as he was told and headed toward the stables. He was still wearing his pajamas, and he shivered in the cool night air. He hesitated for a moment before removing the horse's blanket- it seemed cruel to take away its only form of protection against the chilling temperatures- but, he did so anyway, fastening the saddle on tightly and feeding the stallion a carrot as consolation._

_He led the horse toward the front door, where his father stood waiting. He was suited in armor, his sword shining brilliantly from its holster._

_“I appreciate it, son," his father told him, ruffling his hair before mounting the horse. "There’s food in the cellar, and the wood is in the stables for a fire. If you need anything else, go to Mrs. Wesley down the street.”_

_And with that, he left for battle, leaving his son at home._

_Alone._

_Luckily, for an eight-year-old, Quirin was rather self-sufficient. While he and his father didn't always see eye-to-eye, the man had taught him basic survival skills early on that he was thankful to know at the moment. He knew how to build a fire, over which he cooked meat and boiled water. He knew how to tend to a garden (though that skill was mostly self-taught), and he was able to harvest some vegetables later that week to go with dinner._ _He knew where the feed for the animals was stored, and when he ran out of seed for the chickens a couple of weeks later, it was a good thing that he knew_ _where his father hid a few gold coins in case of emergencies._

_He also knew his way down the streets of the Dark Kingdom, though as he walked toward the marketplace, he noticed that the streets weren't bustling with the same energy that one would expect from the kingdom's main city. For the first time, Quirin realized just how_ empty _the kingdom felt_ ; _like his father, many of the men had rode off to battle weeks ago, leaving the women and children to wonder with heavy hearts when- or_ if- _their fathers, husbands, uncles, sons, and brothers were coming home._

_After he bought his feed, Quirin returned home- only to find that now, the house felt more empty that the deserted city_ _streets._

_The realization hit him. For the first time since his father left, Quirin felt truly and utterly_ alone.

_He didn't like being alone. He didn't like having to worry about his father for weeks on end. He wondered if he was even alive at this point._

_A heavy weight settled in his stomach as he cooked that night's dinner. What if his father wasn't coming back? Would he be alone forever?_

_The house was too quiet- had it been this quiet before?- and as he stood in front of the fireplace in the living room- when had it gotten so large?- he felt an overwhelming wave of loneliness and despair crash over him._

_He couldn't handle being alone. He couldn't handle feeling isolated. He_ needed _someone to talk to, someone to listen to, someone to just_ be there _and provide him with_ human companionship _so he didn't drive himself insane._

_In an instant, he feel to his knees, his dinner forgotten. He felt the tears that he had been blinking back fall down his cheeks. He cried for his father, and he cried for his own sanity, until he feel asleep, exhausted, on the living room floor._

_That night, Quirin didn't hear a horse galloping nearby. He didn't hear the front door unlatch from the outside, or a man hobbling in on crutches and collapsing on the living room couch._

_He only realized that the man- his father- had returned when he woke up that morning. A pair of crutches lied next to the couch, and upon further inspection, Quirin found that his father's entire right leg was wrapped in red-tinted gauze._

_He had been injured in battle, it seemed, but that didn't matter at the moment. His father was home._

_He wasn't alone._

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Quirin didn't think of this experience often. He had tried to push the memory out of his mind _years_ ago.

He never thought that he would have to be alone again- after all, he had his siblings by his side. They had always said that they would stick together through thick and thin; now, they were drifting apart- and in more ways than one.

Per King Edmund's orders, the Dark Kingdom was to be evacuated. The trio would cross the bridge with the rest of the kingdom's former inhabitants; then, they would go their own separate ways. Hector was heading for the Great Tree, where he would station himself in order to keep travelers from entering the Dark Kingdom. Adira had her own mission planned: she was on a quest for the sundrop, believing it to have the power to neutralize the moonstone; Hector had called it 'a fool's dream,' but a small part of Quirin couldn't help but wish his sister luck.

As for himself, Quirin was heading for Corona. It would a long journey for one to travel solo, and for the first time in over ten years, Quirin would be alone.

He didn't want to be alone. He had grown used to the constant companionship that his siblings had provided over the years. He would miss the times that they spent together- no matter how _annoying_ or _exasperating_ they could get. He loved them- more than he had loved his father, more than anyone else in the world- and now...

Now... who knows when he would see them again? Or _if_ he would see them again?

Quirin didn't want to think about that. He was already leaving his home; it didn't seem to fair to have to leave his family, too.

No, he had to look forward. He had to think _positive._ He was heading to a new land, with new opportunities. The journey would be long, yes, but it would be worthwhile when he got to Corona.

He would meet the people there, and perhaps establish an alliance with the king. He would settle down, start a family, and put his past behind him.

He wouldn't be alone for long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I had something entirely different planned for this chapter (like I had the outline done and everything) but I just, could not for the life of me formulate the words into a proper story :/ So, we're gonna settle for this :)
> 
> Thank you for reading, and please leave a comment below <3
> 
> See you next time!


	9. Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> winter- the coldest season of the year, in the northern hemisphere from December to February and in the southern hemisphere from June to August

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy First Day of Spring!!!
> 
> I started writing this, like, a week ago, but real life/pandemic stuff has been getting in the way. Plus, I accidentally deleted my first draft? I don't even know how that happened, but whatever :/
> 
> (What better way to celebrate the first day of spring than by writing a drabble titled "Winter?")
> 
> (Also, Rayofcolor: your request is next in my queue :) )

Out of all the seasons, winter was probably Quirin's least favorite.

The Dark Kingdom tended to have perpetually chilly climate; save for a couple of rare, blazing summer days, the citizens of the kingdom warded off the freezing weather by donning furs and thick clothing year round. They were used to the cold; however, even those native to the Dark Kingdom couldn't deny that the temperature dropped to intolerable, bone-chilling levels during the dead of winter.

Winter could be fun- for a while, at least. By October or November, the first snowflakes would descend from the heavens, covering the ground in a thin sheet of white. The children of the kingdom- including the knights-in-training- would put on their boots and heavy coats, then run outside to make snow angels and snowmen, to have snowball fights, to go sledding down hills- everything that children were expected to do during 'the most wonderful time of the year.'

Winter _could_ be fun, Quirin supposed, but the fun often wore out the later the season got. There were only so many times one could be pelted with snowballs before it became an annoyance. The boy was beginning to miss his warmer weather activities- he didn't have any seeds that would grow well in ice and snow, and as it got colder, darker, and more dangerous, the children were forced to stay inside in order to shelter themselves from the oncoming snow storms.

Quirin could hear the harsh winds whirling outside as the storm hit. The walls of the barracks may have protected the inhabitants from the snow, but it didn't block out the sound of the raging storm- and it definitely didn't ward off the cold, if the blanket that Quirin had draped over his legs was any indication. He was reading by lantern light, while Adira and Hector had opted to play a round of cards on the floor. They both still had their winter coats on; they were a little damp from the snow they had been in earlier, but it was better protection than nothing.

"I win," Adira smirked triumphantly, flashing her cards at Hector. She marked her score down on a sheet of paper, "Again."

"One more round," Hector said, already gathering the cards. "I'll beat you this time."

"Not tonight," the girl answered, standing up. "It's getting later," she said, shivering, "And cold. I'm turning in for the night."

Before Hector could retaliate, Quirin spoke up from his place on his bunk. "I'll blow out the lantern after I finish this chapter."

" _Fine_ ," Hector relented, climbing the ladder after he shoved the game cards in a drawer, "But I want a rematch tomorrow."

Quirin read the last few lines of the chapter; then, as promised, he closed the book, placed it on the desk next to his bed, and blew out the lantern. He laid down and closed his eyes, adjusting the covers more than a couple times to retain some warmth. It only felt like a few seconds between the moment he closed his eyes and when he began to feel the weight on his bed shift. Quirin's eyes shot open just in time to bore into the intruder's lime green ones.

"What are you doing?" Quirin whispered as Hector clambered his way onto the bed.

"It's cold," Hector said in not quite a whisper, but a quieter than usual tone.

"Can't you just, I don't know, get another blanket?" the older boy suggested, his tone mildly irritated. He was usually much more patient, but it was too late- early?- to be dealing with this.

"Adira grabbed the last one," the Hector stated, his eyes downcast, as if rethinking his decision. He shivered slightly- an action that didn't go unnoticed by Quirin- and tugged at the blanket around his shoulders.

Quirin sighed. He loved Hector, he really did, but every now and again he would get... _violent_ in his sleep. Quirin knew it was because of his nightmares- even if he was two bunks over him, he would often hear the younger boy thrashing around, hitting and kicking an invisible enemy to no avail. Quirin knew he couldn't help it; still, he didn't want to be rudely awakened by a punch to the gut.

"Alright," Quirin relented, his big brother instinct overshadowing his own self-preservation as he pulled back the covers. "Get in."

Hector was at his side in an instant. He crawled under the covers, throwing his own blanket over him and Quirin. He snuggled closer to the older boy; Quirin turned on his other side, facing the wall.

It took awhile for Hector to settle down again. That was another thing Quirin had been weary about- he couldn't _stay still._ He flipped over on one side, then the other, then on his stomach, then back to one side- frankly, it was getting on Quirin's nerves.

" _Hector_ ," Quirin whispered, keeping his tone level even when agitated, "Settle down."

" _Sorry,"_ the other responded, though by the snarkiness in his tone, it didn't seem like he meant it. Still, he settled down, facing Quirin and gravitating toward the other boy as if he were a furnace. He closed his eyes, falling asleep within a couple minutes.

It took Quirin a little longer to drift off again. He had to be thankful for Hector's blanket: it provided twice the warmth than just his regular covers. Hector himself, however, was another story- he knew he could expect to be on the receiving end of a couple of kicks throughout the night. At the moment, though, all Quirin felt was a small hand resting against his back, and all he could hear was Hector's slow, steady breathing. In a way, it was a calm, comforting presence- he knew that someone was there with him, that he wasn't alone. The sound faded into the background, allowing Quirin to slowly drift off again.

He was awakened again- he didn't know how much long after- by a rustling sound close by. He turned over, cracking one eye open, to see Adira standing at his bedside. In one arm, she carried her own pillow and blankets; in the other, she was busy moving Hector's arms away from where they dangled over the edge of the bed without waking him up. As he turned over, Adira looked up at him- if she was surprised that she had woken him, she didn't show it.

"You too?" Quirin whispered tiredly.

She nodded. "It's getting colder," she reasoned. "I brought more blankets," she gestured to the pile in her arm.

She didn't need to explain herself further, as Quirin was already scooting closer to the wall, gently dragging Hector over to make room for their sister. It wouldn't be fair to let one sibling sleep with him and turn the other away, even if it was becoming painfully obvious that the singular bunk was not designed to hold three people at once.

Adira crawled in beside Hector, placing down her pillow and distributing her blankets between the three of them. Once satisfied, she laid down on her back, closed her eyes, and allowed sleep to once again overtake her.

With so many blankets, Adira wasn't expecting to wake up to the biting chill in the air. She shivered as she sat up, scanning the area for the missing blankets. She spotted them at the far end of the bed, gathered around her feet. That didn't make much sense; she usually slept still and soundly, like a rock.

She was pulled from her thoughts by a kick to the ribs. She gasped sharply- partially from pain, partially from surprise- and placed a hand over the injured area.

"Hmm?" Quirin murmured sleepily, awakened by Adira's cry. "What it is?"

"Hector kicked me," Adira answered, though her voice had no bite to it.

Quirin, now more fully awake, turned over to face his sister. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," she answered, her hand falling from her side as the dull pain receded. It would probably leave a bruise, but it didn't hurt that much. Instead, she turned her focus on her younger brother. She couldn't see well in the dark, but by the way he kept thrashing around, she had a feeling she knew what was going on. "I think he's having a nightmare."

"You're probably right," Quirin agreed. "Should we wake him up?"

"I don't think that will be necessary," Adira stated. Instead of shaking him awake, as Quirin was prepared to do, she ran a hand through Hector's hair. The effect was almost immediate. He stopped tossing and turning, his heavy breathing returned to a steady pace, and if there had been any light in the room, they would have noted that his once tense features softened to look more relaxed. Quirin was impressed.

Still asleep, Hector turned toward Adira and wrapped his arms around her torso, as if the hug was an unconscious 'thank you.' She plucked his arms up by the wrists, tucking them into his curled body, and rolled him on his other side toward Quirin. "Here, take him."

"Why?" Quirin asked as the other boy snuggled closer toward him.

"I can't sleep with him clinging onto me," Adira stated, grabbing the covers that had been thrown off and settling onto her back. "I was the one who calmed him down. It's your turn to take him."

Quirin shrugged. "Fair enough." He tucked the covers around the three of them, draping an arm across Hector to keep him from moving.

"G'night, Adira."

"Good night."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

On instinct, Quirin woke up at 5 AM. He blinked blearily, raising his right arm to rub the sleep from his eyes- except, he couldn’t raise his right arm.

As he began to wake up, the memories from last night slowly returned to him, and Quirin realized that he was not alone in his bunk. He lifted his head and looked down at where his right arm was supposed to be, only to find Hector laying on top of it. The boy was turned away from him, curled into Adira’s side- apparently, he had escaped Quirin's embrace sometime during the night. Adira herself looked rather peaceful- she was laying on her back, one hand resting on her stomach (Quirin reminded himself to ask if her ribs were alright, just to make sure), the other hand extended toward Quirin.

He wouldn’t wake them up now. It was Saturday, which meant no practice; plus, the air outside of their blanket nest would be freezing, and it was too early for Quirin to be dealing with winter weather.

Instead, he closed his eyes, drifting back to sleep before the others woke him up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like I had to write something fluffy to balance out the angst of the last chapter (and the next chapter possibly).
> 
> Y'all stay safe out there!
> 
> Please leave kudos or a comment :)


	10. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trapped- to have something held tightly by something else so that it cannot move or be freed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Rayofcolor, who wanted to see some Quirin and Hector bonding!
> 
> Featuring: Adult Brotherhood! (This is my first time writing them as adults, so please be gentle <3).

Hector knew it from the very beginning: once he, Quirin, and Adira swore loyalty to the moonstone, they were putting themselves at risk.

As members of the Brotherhood, they were expected to guard the moonstone with their lives; Hector, for one, was prepared to die if it came down to it- and he _knew_ it was a possibility. He almost _did_ die at the Great Tree: he had fallen off that cliff not once, but twice, and it was miracle he had managed to survive it.

He had dedicated over half his life to keeping people out of the Dark Kingdom, as was King Edmund's 'dying' wish. For 25 years, he lived in the Great Tree, separated from his home and brethren solely due to his loyalty to both the moonstone and his monarch.

He would follow his king's command. He would protect the moonstone with his life.

Everything changed when the lady-in-waiting got her hands on the Mind Trap.

Hector was a slave under the Mind Trap, and though he couldn't think for himself during those long, agonizing weeks, his body and soul _despised_ the way an outsider had taken over his mind. To Cassandra, the Brotherhood were little more than pawns to utilize in a giant game of chess. She had allowed them to eat, drink, and rest from time to time- basically, the bare minimum requirements for human survival (after all, she still needed them to be capable of fighting). Other than that, they were just tools.

Once he had been freed, Hector despised the thought even more.

He didn't have much time to stew in his anger, however, as he found himself fighting for the sake of Corona and the Sundrop (he _still_ wasn't sure how he had gotten roped into this- he held no sentiment for the kingdom nor its princess). He fought side by side with his fellow brethren (which certainly brought back some memories) against the evil sorceress Zhan Tiri (that brought back some memories, too, though less pleasant ones), and he and the entire kingdom nearly died from the Reverse Incantation (the memories associated with the _last time_ he had heard that incantation weren't very pleasant either, but he didn't have time to contemplate it as the life rapidly drained from his body). 

Just as he was about to accept his doom- accept that _he had failed once again-_ a flash of light overtook his vision, and the power of the sun coursed through his veins. He was healed. He slowly stood to his feet, as did the rest of Corona's citizens, just in time to witness the sundrop and the moonstone returning to the heavens where they fell from.

_Welp, that took care of that._

It was only during the aftermath of the battle when the members of the Brotherhood managed a proper reunion- a reunion where no one was under mind control and no one was fighting another member (consciously or not).

It was an awkward reunion (it was clear that they all had _a lot_ left to discuss); but, even the unsaid questions and answers couldn't put a damper on the triumph of a battle well won, and the four stood together, victorious- just like old times (well, four plus a crow).

Eventually, the group split up and disappeared into the celebratory crowd. Edmund excused himself to go and find his son ( _another_ question that Hector would bring up later), and Adira trailed close behind, presumably to speak to and congratulate the princess.

That just left Hector and Quirin. Hector figured the other man probably stayed behind for his sake. After all, like Edmund, Quirin had a son to tend to; however, it seemed like his son- Varian was preoccupied, celebrating his kingdom's victory in the company of an older man and couple of younger girls. He was glad Quirin stayed with him, though he would never admit it- he never was a fan of crowds.

"You want to find someplace a little... quieter?"

It seemed that Quirin had picked up on his discomfort. "Sure," he said coolly, though inside he appreciated the gesture. He followed Quirin until they were behind a wall that hadn't been _completely_ torn down during the destruction. 

It had been years- decades- since Hector had last seen his brother face-to-face. He had visited him once in the amber, but here in the flesh, he could tell how much the other man had aged. His face looked older, more wrinkly (probably from sixteen years of child rearing, on top of all those years spent dealing with himself and Adira), and he could see the tiniest of gray hairs beginning to form.

"So..." Hector started, drawing out his words slowly, "It's been a while, huh?"

"About sixteen years," Quirin agreed. "Almost seventeen."

"Well, _I_ actually saw you a little more recently," Hector admitted. "You weren't doing so hot, though..."

"Oh?" Quirin asked.

"Yeah." Should he bring it up? Was it too early to be talking about it? Too late, he had already started; he wasn't backing down now. "It was when you were in the amber."

Quirin remained silent.

"Adira told me," Hector continued, "So I thought I'd pay you a visit in case... you know..."

"Oh," Quirin repeated. "Ok." 

They both went silent again.

"What was it like?" Hector asked, breaking the silence.He didn't really know why he was bringing it up- maybe because it was his most recent memory of him. Maybe because when he last visited his older brother, he thought it would be his _last_ visit to his older brother.

"Hmm?"

"What was it like... being in the amber?" Hector knew that he heard him the first time; why was he stalling?

"Oh. Just like sleeping, I suppose," Quirin answered.

Quirin has always been a convincing liar: he was secretive, and in order to keep something a secret, sometimes your required to 'fudge the details' a little.

Unfortunately for Quirin, Hector could see through his BS.

"Lies."

"What?"

"You're lying through your teeth, Quirin," Hector reiterated, slight offense tinting his voice, "I know you better than you think I do."

Quirin's gaze grew hard. "You _really_ want to know what it was like? _Fine._

"I heard everything, Hector. I heard what you said, I heard what Adira said, I heard what _my son_ said- I heard everything he _did-"_

Quirin stopped his rant for a moment, composing himself. He had been bottling this up for a while. "I was trapped in the amber for over _a year,_ Hector. A year of my life, wasted. A year of my son's life, _wasted._ I couldn't stop him... I couldn't _protect_ him."

 _That_ was his greatest fear: being unable to protect his loved ones- Varian most of all. He had saved his son from the amber, sure, but he hadn't saved him from a life of crime. He had heard his son's downward spiral into villainy, and he had been helpless to stop him.

Hector thought back to Quirin's son. The boy looked fine to him- a little on the scrawny side, maybe- but he had fought well in battle. Quirin had raised him well.

"What if I had hurt him today?" Quirin asked, more to himself than to Hector.

"It wouldn't have been your fault," Hector replied anyway, his voice tense.

"Wouldn't it have been, though?" Quirin snapped, " _I_ joined the Brotherhood, _I_ got the tattoo, _I_ swore loyalty to _a rock_."

"Did you _know_ about the Mind Trap?" Hector retorted, his voice raising in volume to match Quirin's. He knew the answer- he just wanted to hear Quirin say it.

"Of course not!" the older replied, "If I had known... If I had known, I wouldn't have sworn loyalty to that damned moonstone in the first place."

To be perfectly honest, Hector wouldn't have either. He enjoyed having freewill too much for that.

"I'm supposed to protect him," Quirin mumbled, sitting on the ground with his head in his hands. "That's my job, isn't it? As a father? I'm supposed to keep him safe."

"You've always been the protector," Hector agreed, taking a seat next to him. "You got me out of trouble more times than I can count."

Quirin barked out a bitter laugh, but nothing else.

"You're not the one to blame here, Quirin," Hector said again, reassuringly. "You didn't know about the Mind Trap. You didn't know that she was using you. You didn't know what you were doing..."

After a moment to contemplate it, Hector spoke up again.

"Trust me, Quirin, I know a thing or two about mind control."

Quirin perked his head up, eyebrows knit in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well... you remember those nightmares I used to have?"

"... The one about the demon?"

"Yep," Hector said. "I think those dreams were trying to tell me something."

He recounted the events from the Great Tree. He told Quirin how Cassandra had pushed him over the ledge, how he had landed at the heart of Zhan Tiri's tree, how he had grabbed the spear and unleashed the evil inside. Back then, he didn't know what he was expecting to happen (or maybe, he had been expecting it all along?); now, the blurry memory of the demon hosting his body, dangling him in the air like a marionette- a puppet under the control of a higher power- was forever ingrained into his mind. It was no longer just a nightmare, and he hated every agonizing second of it.

"And then, there was the Mind Trap," Hector snarled. "I- _We,_ " he corrected himself, "were under the Mind Trap's influence for _weeks._ And we couldn't do a thing about it!"

He continued to vent about the Mind Trap, just as Quirin had done earlier about the amber. It was a good way to get those feelings out, Quirin supposed.

"-And the King never told us! I spent _25 years_ of my life following his orders, and in the end," he choked on his words, fighting back tears, "it meant _nothing."_

That's where Quirin drew the line- he wasn't going to stand there and watch his brother cry.

"Hector," Quirin grabbed his brother by the shoulders, "Listen to me. Everything happens for a reason. You did the best you could- you kept people out of the Dark Kingdom for years. Sure, the moonstone fell into the wrong hands-"

" _Twice,_ " Hector said bitterly.

" _Twice,"_ Quirin repeated, "But if it hadn't fallen into the wrong hands, it never would have fallen into the right hands-" he reasoned, referring to the princess, "And it never would have returned to where it belongs." _Did that make sense?_

"I guess that makes sense..." Hector relented. There was still a lot of pent up emotion regarding that topic; but, for now, he would simmer down. For Quirin's sake.

After a moment of silence, Quirin spoke up.

"I'm going to help with the clean up," he said, peeking out from behind the wall they had hidden behind. "It looks like King Edmund and Adira have already beaten us to it."

"This place is a wreck," Hector agreed, following behind Quirin as they walked back to the courtyard. He looked up. "It'll take forever to fix that hole is the tower."

"I think we've both seen worse messes, _brother_."

"You're right about that, _brother_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first attempt at actually writing the adult Brotherhood; hopefully it turned out alright :)
> 
> Also, special thanks to Cass who thought it would be a fun idea if Quirin could hear everything around him during his time in the amber. Enjoy.
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos <3 Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! My first Brotherhood drabble is complete! If you enjoyed this story, then you'll be happy to know that I've got nine more drabbles "planned"- as in I randomly generated nine other words and I hope to have stories based around them soon.
> 
> Anyway, comments and constructive criticism are appreciated! Thank you for reading!


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